


Meg!Sam (April, 2017)

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Wincest Writing Challenge [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Meg!Sam - Freeform, Possessed Sam, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite





	Meg!Sam (April, 2017)

“Sam?”

Dean slowly pushed the motel room door open, worried about what he might find on the other side. He relaxes when he sees Sam sitting in the end of the closest bed.

“Sam,” he sighs, rushing to his brother’s side. He gathers Sam’s shaking body into his arms and peppers his face with kisses. “Fuck, baby, you scared me pretty bad.”

“‘M sorry,” Sam mumbles, hunching over in Dean’s embrace and pressing his face into the older man’s shirt.

Dean gently cradles the back of Sam’s head in one hand. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admits. “I can’t remember.”

That’s never good. “What _do_ you remember?”

Sam takes a deep breath. “I, um… I remember leaving the motel to get food. Then nothing until I woke up here.”

Dean nods. “Okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure out what happened.”

“I’m not sure we want to.” Sam sits up and moves his arms from where they’ve been folded against his stomach to reveal a huge blood stain on the front of his shirt.

“Shit,” Dean breathes, already grabbing at Sam’s shirt, pulling it up until he can feel the unblemished skin beneath even as Sam says, “I don’t think it’s mine. I tried to wash it off.”

Dean pulls Sam to his feet. “Let’s get you in the shower, get you cleaned up.”

Sam allows himself to be led into the bathroom and undressed. Other than the memory loss and the bruises on his knuckles, he seems okay. Dean grabs Sam’s fancy shampoo from his bag before joining him under the hot water.

“Bend down so I can wash your hair,” Dean tells him, curling a hand around the back of Sam’s neck and pulling gently until Sam tilts forward.

His forehead presses against Dean’s shoulder and the older brother carefully works his fingers through Sam’s hair until it’s sufficiently wet. He puts probably too much shampoo on his palm and washes Sam’s hair thoroughly. Once the shampoo is rinsed out, he lets Sam do the conditioner and moves on to washing his brother’s body. Every stroke of his hands over smooth, tan muscles loosens the knot in his stomach a tiny bit. They still have to figure out what exactly happened, but Sam is okay. He’s here, he’s safe, and that’s all that matters right now.

Dean’s suddenly distinctly aware of Sam’s cock bumping against his hip bone. He smirks, trailing his hand down Sam’s toned stomach to curl his fingers slowly around the base. Sam sighs and loops his arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer, breathing his name into his skin.

“I’ve got you,” Dean murmurs, giving Sam a firm stroke and listening to the soft moan it pulls from him. “What do you want me to do?”

“Want… want your mouth,” Sam mumbles, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the hollow of Dean’s throat.

Dean turns him away from the water and slowly sinks to his knees, leaving a trail of kisses down the line of Sam’s abs and skirting his cock in favor of leaving a soft bruise on his hipbone. Sam whines, leaning back against the wall and tugs at Dean’s hair, pulling his head towards his erection. Dean chuckles softly, but allows himself to be directed. He dives right in, taking Sam as deep as he can.

“Fuck, Dean!”

Sam’s head falls back and his grip on Dean’s hair tightens, but his hand doesn’t move. He lets Dean set his own rhythm, lets him pull back to kitten lick along the shaft and mouth at Sam’s balls. When Dean mouths at the base while rubbing his thumb over Sam’s slit, the younger man makes a desperate sound that has Dean’s cock jumping against his own thigh. He moves lower to suck one testicle into his mouth, slowly pumping Sam’s dick. He throws in the little twist on the way up that he knows drives Sam crazy, rubbing the tip of his thumb over the little bundle of nerves just below the head. He has Sam bucking under his hands in no time. When Dean wraps his mouth around Sam’s cock again, he can tell his lover is close. He brings him right up to the edge with his mouth before pulling back to jerk Sam to orgasm across his chest.

Before he can say anything, he’s being pulled to his feet and into Sam’s arms. The brothers kiss fiercely, Sam’s fingers digging into the meat of Dean’s biceps before slipping down to encircle the smaller man’s straining erection. Dean’s already so turned on by taking care of Sam that it takes an almost embarrassingly short amount of time for him to reach orgasm.

Dean leans against his brother, content to just hold onto Sam and let the water do it’s thing. “Feeling better?” he asks, lifting his head to meet Sam’s gaze.

“Much.”

The last thing Dean sees before something hits him in the head, rendering him unconscious, is Sam’s eyes blinking black.

* * *

Not good, not good, not good.

Dean shifts nervously in the chair he’s tied to, watching Sam- Sam’s body, that is definitely Sam- pacing through the open doorway. They’re in what seems to be an abandoned house, probably a good distance from civilization. Dean’s dressed in boxers and a t-shirt- either the demon has some semblance of modesty or was trying to be less suspicious when moving him. His hair is still damp, so he can’t have been out too long. Which means the demon either moved them quickly or they haven’t gone as far as he originally thought.

“Sam” is holding an old, ritualistic-looking metal bowl- something that makes Dean think demons, which is never a good thing. Dean is pretty sure the bowl is filled with blood, if the shouting and gurgling he heard just minutes ago and the dark red liquid dripping from “Sam’s” fingers to his wrists are any indication. He strains his ears, struggling to hear what “Sam” is saying to whoever he’s talking to, but he’s too far away.

“Sam” glances up to see Dean watching him and smirks cruelly. He sets the bowl down and enters the room, circling Dean slowly.

“Someone’s awake,” he purrs, leaning down to speak right in Dean’s ear. “Hello, Dean.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my brother?” Dean growls, refusing to look at whatever has taken of his brother’s body.

“You don’t recognize me? Dean, I’m hurt! Not as hurt as I was when you got me thrown out of a window, of course. Or when you sent me to Hell. I’m still not over that incident, unfortunately.”

“Meg,” he growls, tugging at the ropes holding him in place. “Get out of him.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think I will. I quite like it here. Tall. Handsome. And those _puppy eyes_. Sam can get whatever he wants out of people. It’s a handy skill to have. I think I’ll be sticking with this vessel for a long time.”

Dean makes an angry noise low in his throat and Meg chuckles darkly, already moving away. It’s clear she’s not accustomed to a male form, judging by the slight swing of her hips when she walks and the way she stands with her hip cocked.

“You already have Sam. What do you want with me?” Dean shoots her his dirtiest look.

Meg shrugs. “Have to get Sam to cooperate somehow. Plus, the boss man wants you under control. You have a knack for disrupting his plans.”

“Sorry. Bad habit I can’t seem to break.”

She snorts, giving him a “you’re adorable and stupid” look. “Right. Well, you’re going to sit tight here and I am going to take this bad boy” she pats Sam’s ass “out for a test drive. Oh, and I’m taking your car.”

“You keep your filthy hands off of my car!” Dean shouts, pulling on his wrists, but Meg is already jangles the in front of his face. She winks and vanishes out the door.

* * *

Dean’s not sure how long Meg’s been gone, but every minute Sam is out of his sights just makes him more anxious. He’s already worked his way free of his bonds and found his phone- dumb bitch left it sitting on the kitchen counter of the house she left him in. He can see what he’s assuming are more demons outside the house- which appears to be on the edge of town- so he returns quickly to the chair and pretends to be tied up still. He uses Google Maps to figure out his location and texts an SOS to Bobby. They’re not too far from where Bobby last was. Hopefully he’s close enough to help.

When his phone lights up ten minutes later, it’s Bobby letting him know he’s five minutes out. Dean has already found a can of spray paint in the garage. When Bobby arrives, he parks down the street and walk in. Meg is still nowhere to be seen. Together, they make an intricate trap sure to hold the demon on the ceiling. Bobby ties Dean up again, but with much-less-intricate knots this time, and hides.

They have good timing. Dean hears the roar of the Impala’s engine. Meg comes flouncing in moments later, more bloody than she was when she left. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight of so much blood on his brother’s body.

“Hello, Dean,” Meg coos, quickly crossing the room. “Didja miss me?”

Dean smirks up at her. “Sure did.”

“Surprise bitch.”

Meg whirls just as Bobby throws holy water her direction. She shrieks and grabs at her face, giving Dean enough time to free himself from the ropes and shove her into the chair he just vacated. Bobby rushes forward and helps Dean tie Meg down.

Dean steps back, folding his arms over his chest. Meg is looking far too smug for a demon stuck in a trap.

“You really think this is going to hold me?” she sneers. “Did you forget I’m a demon.”

Dean jerks his head toward the ceiling as Bobby says, “Key of Solomon. You’re not getting out of that anytime soon.”

Meg growls, struggling against the ropes. Bobby opens the ancient book he brought with him to the bookmarked page and begins reading the exorcism.

Dean’s not sure what he was expecting, having only witnessed part of an exorcism once in his life, but he wasn’t expecting it to be just like the stories. As in, full on head spinning, screaming, classic horror movie exorcism. Hearing those sounds coming from Sam’s body almost has him leaving the room, but he forces himself to stand firm.

When black smoke erupts from Sam’s mouth and vanishes between cracks in the floor, Dean feels the tension leave his body. He crouches beside Sam’s limp form in the chair, quickly untying him.

“D’n?” Sam slurs, head tilting towards the older Winchester.

“I’m here.” Dean gently grabs Sam’s face in his hands and forces hazel eyes to meet green. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Sam tells him. “And I need to sleep for a week.”

Dean helps Sam stand, looping the taller man’s arm around his shoulder. He turns to Bobby. “We should probably get going. We’ll follow you to a motel?”

“Sounds good to me.”

It’s been a while since Dean had to pretty much carry Sam anywhere- last time, Sam was almost blackout drunk- but he manages to get them both into the car without incident. Sam leans against Dean’s shoulder as he drives, fingers tangled with his brother’s on the seat.

“’M sorry,” Sam mumbles.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Dean assures him. “It’s not like you asked to be possessed. Besides, Meg’s going to be in Hell for a while. That’s good, right?”

Sam smiles, soft and perfect and beautiful. “Yeah. That’s good.”


End file.
